


Mistaken Identity

by vinylstories



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon LGBTQ Character, Canon LGBTQ Male Character, Catboys & Catgirls, F/F, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Character of Color, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Female Character of Color, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Original Fiction, POV Original Character, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:40:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vinylstories/pseuds/vinylstories
Summary: (i suck at summaries sorry)Milo (he/him) goes on a trip to the mall with his friends: Asuka (he/they), Pilvi (she/her), and Eleanore (she/her). Pilvi drops a huge bomb on everyone, and Milo doesn't respond great. Especially since this bomb's name is far too closely related to the one Milo hides on his wrist.
Relationships: Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), Original Female Character/Original Female Character, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 3





	1. Caly

**Author's Note:**

> if you can't tell after reading this chapter, i write almost exclusively at 3am when my brain is its most fried:) on top of that, this is my first work that isn't overly heteronormative, so please be gentle but honest with critiques homies. there will be no sex in this story because i don't even want to accidentally associate with fujoshis, and frankly this story isn't about the sexual aspects. i want the focus to be on Milo's journey, and how that impacts his relationships with everyone.
> 
> POV: 3rd Person, Milo
> 
> !Minor Trigger Warning!: soulmate names are on the wrist, so if you're sensitive to descriptions that may resemble that of s*lf h*rml, please read something else! i would much rather u read the same fanfic for the thousandth time than be triggered by my writing. stay safe<3

Milo’s phone wouldn’t stop dinging. He snatched it off his thick, denim blue comforter and typed angrily. 

_ Pilvi, I love you but kindly shut the fuck up _

Not waiting for an answer, Milo silenced his phone and tossed it onto the gray beanbag in front of his bed. He then slipped past his bonsai plant to his closet. As he slid the dark brown door open, his wrist exposed itself, brown skin a stark contrast to the almost pink scarring of the letters that formed a name that sent pins and needles into Milo’s lungs. His Abyssinian ears flattened at the sight, heart-shaped jaw stiffening. He was suddenly too distracted to think through his wardrobe choice for the day, so out came a soft gray turtle neck, royal purple blazer, and dark green pants. Thankfully, his brain wasn’t so gone that he couldn’t rethink the disastrous choice. 

Pilvi must’ve noticed Milo’s lack of response to her texts; a sharp pounding came upon his door as he was putting away the blazer and pants with a sour face. He jumped, tail twitching. Pilvi came inside without his acknowledgment.

“What’s taking so long, babes?” she asked sweetly, plopping down on the end of his just-made bed. Milo cringed silently, but he was good at picking his battles. Her dress poofed with the fluid movement, the layers underneath that made the dress poofy exposing themselves temporarily before settling.

Consciously keeping his wrist plastered to his stomach, he scratched an ear. “I’m not about to go into public looking like an Oompa Loompa, love,” he replied a touch distantly, silently praying she wouldn’t notice the intensity with his arm-stomach situation. “Where’s Eleanore?” Milo deflected.

Pilvi’s rounded ears perked at the name of her girlfriend. “Still sleeping. She was up really late last night watching a home design show again.” She stood, her flowy tail swaying sweetly. “Hurry up, though, because Asuka’s been ready for like an hour and you know how they are.” Even poking fun, Pilvi was kind. She stood, dress swaying (she loved the way her gowns looked in motion), gave Milo a swift peck on the cheek, and closed the door behind her. 

Milo sighed and turned back to his closet. Neatly hung tops and jackets hovered over his neatly folded pants in mesh shelves. After a while, he settled on no blazer and dress pants. His turtle neck pooled at his collar bone, and he clipped a simple chain to his pants. The sunlight of 7 a.m. sent rays through the translucent curtains of his balcony door. It was a tiny balcony, not even big enough for a chair, but he was grateful nonetheless. They had no ac, so opening that door took away so much stuffiness during summer.

When he was done fawning over his fit, Milo fumbled to the back of his closet, pulling out two makeup products and tiny brushes. He sat where Pilvi had, holding his arm steady to apply it on the X of Calyx. The more he packed on, the less it was visible. Milo’s three roommates were under the impression that his soulmate was some girl named Caly, and Milo intended to keep it that way until they went their separate ways. Once he was satisfied with the opacity of the makeup, he rolled the two products into the back of his closet once again. The name on his wrist was now some character that he could find comfort in pretending to fantasize about, instead of the reality of the male possibilities that harassed his dreams.

His chain jingled quietly as he bent over to grab his phone off the beanbag, and headed downstairs into the living area of their townhouse. The beige carpet of the stairs was flattened by past tenants stepping on them, so it didn’t feel all that different on Milo’s socks when he stepped onto the hard floor. Making his way to the living area, Milo’s eyes wandered on the walls of the slim hall, across paintings from Eleanore and a bunch of renaissance sapphic art that Pilvi bought. Milo enjoyed the earthy tones of Pilvi’s purchases, and it soothed his morning nerves as he entered the warm-toned living room. Pilvi called herself cottagecore, and decorated everything according to the aesthetic; Milo knew that Eleanore was whatever the opposite of cottagecore is, but she loved Pilvi too much to ever disagree with furnishing choices.

Milo smiled goodmorning at Asuka, who was half asleep in his big, pink sweater. Blonde tufts of damp hair clung to his curled ears, and he groggily waved back while his extravagant tail hung limp, almost more tired than he seemed. Asuka rested his head on his hand, elbow relying on the small kitchen island that was connected to the living area. Milo sat on the light brown couch in front of the island, his head falling back on it. 

“What’s the purpose of leaving so early,” Milo complained as Pilvi walked through, holding a cup of sweetened lemonade.

The early sunlight reflected off her patches of dark and light skin as she took another sip, and turned her baby blue eyes to Milo. “We have to pick up a friend of mine. Which is why I wanted everyone down here, bec-”

“No,” came Asuka’s husky voice. Pilvi’s hopeful eyes turned annoyed, but before she spoke, Asuka continued: “We didn’t have a room for a friend last month, and we don’t now.” Milo stared at the off-white ceiling silently, praying to not be dragged into this. The prayers went unheard.

“He could stay in Milo’s room,” she countered. Her tone was matter-of-fact as if everyone should’ve known this already. Milo’s head sprung up, tail flicking, irritated. “Oh, come on Milo. When was the last time you even slept in your room?” Pilvi’s hands flew to her hips, her floral gown rippling in the wake.

Milo’s mouth fell open as his eyebrows furrowed simultaneously. “Literally last night!” he exclaimed. Granted, it was the first time in a while. That wasn’t the point though; a stranger would  _ not _ be sleeping him the only private space he had in the townhouse. “Where would I change? Where would I go when I want to be alone?”

Pilvi rolled her eyes. “The bathroom for changing. You love going outside, just take a walk or something!” Just as things were getting heated, Eleanore came up and sat down on the low coffee table. The chains on her jeans jingled together, and she put a hand on Pilvi’s, ears perked with concern. Round yellow eyes gazed up at Pilvi, and Pilvi took a deep breath.

Asuka didn’t realize the discussion was halted, because he suggested, “Why can’t he stay in your room, Pilvi? He’s your friend after all. Just stay in Eleanore’s.”

Heat flared in Pilvi’s eyes again, and Eleanore quickly spoke up. Her voice had the texture of caramel as she explained, “Hun, Pilly and I do share a room.” Milo could feel Asuka’s onyx eyes widen in surprise. Eleanore took Pilvi’s hand fully, sandwiching it between her own. “How about this,” she said, mostly to Pilvi. “He’s gonna hang out with us for the day, but he’s going to work around dinner time. We can talk about it then, alright?” Eleanore was still looking up at Pilvi when Milo nodded, feeling satisfied with the plan. Pilvi nodded reluctantly.

Eleanore, seeming triumphant, stood. Her skin was very dark, which made her yellow eyes look enchanting. Her Bombay’s ears had soft arcs, as did the curves of her face. Despite the thick eyeliner, chains, and overall grungier style, she was a massive softy. Especially for Pilvi. Eleanore’s smile dampened the tension, and she kept one hand intertwined with Pilvi’s while she made her way to the front door. Milo and Asuka followed behind quietly, as it was far too early to be making chit chat.

The white Buick LeSabre protested to starting so damn early, but Eleanore persisted with the key. Asuka took out his phone and began typing next to Milo in the back seat. Late summer trees flew by them as they sped down their street, and Milo snuggled into his soft turtle neck, watching the ancient houses and apartment buildings blur past. His ears went down slightly, relaxed, and only relaxed further when Eleanore had Pilvi put on a podcast about true crime. He enjoyed any podcasts, really. Being able to enjoy an engaging conversation without actually having to talk was wonderful.

Homey neighbourhoods turned into city streets, and autumn coloured trees were replaced with street lights and traffic signs. Eleanore continued taking occasional direction from Pilvi and ended up driving about two towns over, where the car pulled over in front of a decently sized house, with a truck and an SUV in the driveway. Milo’s ears perked and turned outward, his single earring swinging with it, when Pilvi unbuckled. “I’ll be right back,” she said sweetly. “He’s just inside.” With that, she was out of the car and walking up the driveway, and the long fur on her tail danced in the breeze.

At first, Milo wondered what the hell Pilvi was thinking, having a guy in  _ his _ room, but then he remembered that no one in his friend group knew why that would make him uncomfortable. Self-conscious, Milo put a hand over his marked wrist and looked out the window at the house. It was brick and white wood, two stories. There was a small patio in the front, and three massive trees decorating the front yard. Four tall windows exposed a portion of the interior, but, from the curb, Milo couldn’t see more than the changing colors of a tv.

Eleanore and Asuka were talking enthusiastically about skateboarding when Pilvi’s box braids and fluffy gray ears showed up again, heading toward the curb where the car parked. Next to her was a tall boy in a yellow, black, and white striped shirt tucked into light blue cuffed jeans. Dark brown hands were casually stuffed into his pockets, and he smiled at something Pilvi said. Milo realized he was staring before the boy looked his way, and turned to stare down at his lap. His hand was still over his wrist, and he could see his thin, tan tail in his peripheral vision.

Feminine and masculine voices got closer, and Milo’s door opened. He flinched, looking up with surprise. Pilvi made a “move over” motion, and Milo moved into the middle seat while Pilvi took his original place. The boy sat in the front seat, politely greeting Eleanore. She responded casually and started the old car back up.

As Eleanore drove, Pilvi decided introductions should be done now, while Milo and Asuka were squirming in each others’ personal space. “So,” she began, “this is everyone. Everyone, this is Cal.”

Milo stopped squirming, and his mind started racing faster than he’d be able to race physically.  _ No no no no no no no no _ . He was frantic on the inside, and statue-still on the outside. The boy--Cal--turned his head to reveal a slightly uneven smile. Pilvi elbowed Milo in the arm, eliciting a hiss of pain from him. Itching the back of his hand, Milo muttered a very quiet, “Hello.” Asuka smiled back at Cal with far more genuinity than Milo and launched a conversation about what brought Cal to them.

“I finished up online courses this past week, and my buddy’s parents were only equipped to handle me for so long.” Cal’s voice sounded like a busy river, soft and rough. It made Milo’s head spin. His hand got itchier, and Pilvi threw a look of worry Milo’s way. To keep too much attention away from his panic, Milo, glued his hands to his thighs and returned Pilvi’s look with one of confusion. Asuka and Cal continued talking for the duration of the drive, and Milo busied himself with his phone.

Eleanore pulled into the huge parking lot of the mall after a half-hour of driving. Asuka had drilled Cal’s backstory and intentions out of him, all the while remaining friendly and maintaining his calm demeanor. Milo had more than run out of things to do on his phone but had been switching through apps mindlessly regardless.

Pilvi was the first out of the car, excited to window shop and eat mediocre food. She grabbed Milo’s hand, mock-dragging him to the immense building. “Hurry, Milo, we gotta get there before they close!” She had the enthusiasm of a five-year-old, and it was refreshing. Milo felt himself relax and smile, so he let Pilvi drag him to the front doors before anyone else.

It only took Pilvi and Eleanore five to ten minutes to disappear on their own, probably looking at art that could mirror what they already had at the townhouse. Asuka had drifted into Zumiez for a new skateboard, which left Milo waiting for him. Alone. With Cal. He had to manually breathe to keep it in check as they sat next to each other on a bench outside of the store.

Milo was about to take out his phone again when Cal spoke up. “I never caught your name,” he suggested calmly. Cal’s voice sent a zing through Milo, so it took him a minute to respond.

“Oh,” he said, trying to sound friendly enough, “I’m Milo. Ackerman.” Milo made sure not to make eye contact. He didn’t want to know Cal’s eye color. Or the shape of his face. Or how full his lips might be.

Milo felt Cal nod. “That’s a cool name, My best friend when I was little had that as his middle name. Milo, I mean. I feel like it can fit anywhere.” Strangely, as random as the comment was, Cal didn’t seem to be forcing it. Milo smiled a little.

“I’ve never met someone else named Milo, which is weird. I feel like it’s a super common name,” he contributed. The more he thought about it, Cal didn’t automatically mean Calyx. It could be Calvin, or genuinely just Cal. As that thought settled, so did Milo.

Cal laughed a little. “For real? Yeah, I know more Milo’s than I can count. Milo, Andrew, and Liam were the only names I heard during high school.” Milo glanced in Cal’s direction, still keeping his eyes down. His light blue jeans were cuffed above pink converse, littered with names and words. Milo found himself trying to decipher a bunch of them.

Cal’s phone made a sound, and he was temporarily consumed in it. Milo took the opportunity to finally look up. 

Fuck.

Cal’s ears were jet black and made a perfect triangle shape with long black fur shiny and soft-looking. And Milo didn’t know how but his bedhead looked professionally made, like his bed must have some degree or something. Thick, fluffy tufts of black hair adorned Cal’s head, resting lightly on the nape of his deep brown neck. He couldn’t tell where the fur of his ears stopped and the bedhead hair began. Cal’s jawline could cut steel, Milo swore on it, and Cal’s face was turned away just far enough that he couldn’t quite-

“I forget how much I hate it there.” Asuka’s annoyance pierced through Milo, feeling like a freight train. Cal looked up sympathetically.

“Should we go find the girls?” Asuka asked, looking between Cal and Milo.

Cal looked to him expectantly, and Milo, trying so desperately to appear collected, forced himself to look back. Cal’s eyes reminded him of enchanted grass in the fog, if he went too far he wouldn’t be able to find his way out of Cal’s eyes. It almost hurt to look away, it felt insulting to deny himself the ability to just stare for the rest of his life. 

By the power of the gods, Milo didn’t miss a beat: “I could use some food if they didn’t eat yet.”

Asuka saw Eleanore and Pilvi first and waved them over. To no one’s surprise, Pilvi was holding three large bags and one slightly smaller one. “Subs?” Eleanore said, and no one seemed opposed.

Cal sat two seats away from Milo, which was too close if anyone asked him. He could feel the quiet intensity of Cal’s eyes, and it was causing him to forget how to eat. Asuka and Eleanore were gushing over some skateboard thing, and it eventually morphed into a conversation about sexuality. 

“I dunno,” Asuka commented. “I think I realized I might be bi when I was buying skateboard stickers, and all the dudes looked way hotter than the girls.” Pilvi and Cal laughed, and Milo just enjoyed listening to the cheerful voices floating around him.

“Babe, I knew you were at least bi when you got angry at me on my 8th birthday,” retorted Eleanore. Asuka raised a brow in question and earned an incredulous but humourous laugh from Elle. “You didn’t talk to me for three fucking weeks, all because I got nail polish and you didn’t.” Asuka burst out laughing, as he must’ve recalled their shared memory.

Cal chimed in: “Oh, my ex would get so mad at me for things like that.”

Asuka looked to him. “Like nail polish?”

“Yeah,” Cal chuckled. “He’d try to start hour-long fights with me all because I could afford nail polish for myself but not gas for our car.” Pilvi nodded frantically.

“Oh my god, I remember him!” She went off in a tangent about him, but Milo was stuck on the fact that Cal’s ex was a he. Was Cal bi?

Between the cuffed jeans, pink converse, and overall outfit, Milo really should’ve known already. It was almost impossible to look more bi. No one reacted to the look of surprise that flashed on Milo’s face; it was unusual to have ex-partners after 18. Milo still didn’t understand why the first name came through puberty, but the last name had to wait. What was the purpose of that? He remembered initially thinking that his soulmate simply didn’t have a last name when his scarred into his wrist. 

The pain of the name was a huge surprise, too, as no one really talked about the first process of the name forming. Milo was lucky to be in the shower when it started, so he could turn the water ice cold and, while his sensitive ears suffered, slightly numbed the intense burn of the letters. It also wasn’t as magical as everyone made it out to be: there was no enchanting glow, it didn’t form in front of your eyes. It was just a little over one week of aching and burning, and even after the pain was gone, you couldn’t see it quite yet. For a while, Milo lived in a euphoria of truly thinking it said Caly and relished in the feeling of not having to come out or address his feelings every time he found himself yearning for the male in a movie more than the female.

Milo rubbed his wrist with the passing memory. The small, subconscious movement took off the entirety of the makeup covering a part of his soulmate’s name. Panic stiffened Milo’s body, and cotton balls filled his ears. He didn’t even realize the others had stood up and gone to dump their food, he was just sitting, terrified. A gentle hand touched his shoulder, and Milo jumped at the contact. He looked up to see Cal leaning over, concern in his enchanting eyes. The tension in Milo’s body immediately released, his ears relaxing slightly. Cal’s jawline curved with a subtlety that contradicted the growing worry of Cal’s expression.

“You okay, Milo?” he asked, still sounding a little fuzzy.

Stuck between complete relaxation and consuming panic, Milo said, “Yeah, the makeup just came off.” He sounded groggy like he had just woken up from a long ass nap. Cal’s head tilted slightly in question. Milo’s eyes darted anywhere but Cal, and he scrambled his mall tray together when he stood. “I’m all good, just spaced out a little, uh. Thanks.” Milo dismissed himself too quickly, but Cal didn’t chase after what Milo had said.

Milo saw the girls and Asuka near the entrance and looked back to see if he should go get Cal, but Cal was already behind him. He smiled coolly, silently agreeing to forget what was said. Milo grinned back gratefully, and he found Pilvi heading toward them when he turned back around. She slipped her arm around Milo’s, commenting, “Y’all would be such a cute couple if you weren’t straight, Milo.”

Milo turned to her incredulously, still standing on nerve endings. She simply laughed, waving a careless hand through the air. “I said what I said, babe. Quit being so uptight and let me tease you,” she added jokingly, nudging Milo.

Milo kept his hand deliberately in the small pocket of his pants, smiling. His flat ears and ticking tail gave away his ever-growing stress, though. A shock slammed through him when Cal’s glossy black tail grazed Milo’s leg as Cal walked past, and Pilvi gave Milo a strange look as a result. Milo shook his head and shrugged at Pilvi, playing dumb.

When the two caught up to the others, Eleanore and Cal were talking about where his work was around. The rest of the adventure was sort of a haze for Milo, but nothing all too interesting happened anyways, so he wasn’t too upset.

Due to the season, by the time they were back home, the sun had begun to retire for the night. Chilled air wished past Milo as he stepped out of the car, making his sensitive feline attribute shiver. He shoved his hands into his pockets more for comfort than hiding this time and briskly walked up the thin walkway to their chipped white door. His black shoes tapped quietly against the muted wood of the front hall, and he slipped them off next to their false cherry blossom tree. Milo walked directly into the living area/kitchen and plopped onto their light brown armchair. It was an ugly piece of furniture on its own, but combined with the overall appearance of the living room, it wasn’t that bad in Milo’s eyes. Plus, it was comfy as fuck, so who really cares all that much. 

Asuka mindlessly gave Milo’s head a little rub as he walked by, which released remaining tension from Milo’s shoulders. Milo didn’t usually like physical affection, but, as he grew closer with his roommates, he found himself being affected negatively if he had none for a long time.

A lack of tension didn’t last as long as Milo would’ve liked when Pilvi came in with an unsurprising agenda. She sat gracefully down on the coffee table (Milo made a mental note to wipe it down before going to sleep), and Asuka was suddenly called to his room for some important task. Pilvi looked pointedly at Milo, her almost perfectly round eyes intense. “Okay,” she began smoothly. “I feel like he should share your room because you’re the only dude here who doesn’t like dudes. So, genuinely, I don’t see where the problem is.” Eleanore must’ve talked to Pilvi before they came inside because her words were careful and passive.

Milo nodded in understanding, focusing his eyes on her bouncing leg to avoid giving anything away. “Definitely, I get that. My room is my only personal space for me, where I can relax without being in someone’s eyes, and that personal space is important for me to have.” He fought to keep passion out of his voice; his room truly was very important to him, especially if Cal’s soft, elegant features were gonna be around day and night. Milo’s pierced ear twitched as he scolded himself immediately after having the thought. “Why can’t he sleep on the couch, if it’s only temporary?” he suggested.

Pilvi’s shaped eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Huh.” She shifted slightly, crossing her previously shaking leg over the other. “I didn’t think of that. Doesn’t Asuka walk around naked in the middle of the night, though?”

Eleanore coughed, clearly suppressing a laugh. Milo shrugged, “I’ll throw a chair in front of his door in the meantime, I guess. Or we could just tell him to put on a pair of pants.”

Pilvi nodded in consideration, seeming satisfied. “Alright, should I give Cal a call? I think he has to finish packing tonight, and then Elle and I would go get him tomorrow morning.” Milo nodded, feeling a little antsy to escape to his room. “Pass it by Asuka, but it’s good by me,” Milo dismissed, standing. Pilvi stood as well, a sweet smile on her face, reaching slightly to give Milo a small hug.

Milo heard talk of dinner possibilities as he briefly stepped on a dark green rug at the threshold of the front hall. Casual chatter flitted through the small home, accompanied by occasional giggles. As Milo made his way down the thin hall to his room, he struggled to keep royal facial features and perfectly downturned green eyes out of his head. 


	2. Bumblebees and Daisies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: graphic description of violence and blood, stalking
> 
> Minor/no editing bc i write this shit at 2am exclusively and am therefore too tired to make it actually legible :)
> 
> Milo grabs a bite with Cal and walks someone home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another trigger warning: graphic description of violence and blood, and there is a minor description of stalking. please please please put your mental health and possible triggers over a silly story about catboys <3

Milo didn’t understand where his internal issues came from. His family had always been more progressive compared to the rest of the world, and he’s never had an overly traumatic experience with a homophobe. Milo wasn’t religious, either--agnostic at most--and he didn’t have a taught prejudice against anyone. So, why did it feel like such a stab in the heart when  _ Calyx _ appeared on his wrist? Pilvi described it as internalized homophobia when she talked about her coming out, and about how she couldn’t until she dealt with those feelings; she also described it as something she had due to being in such a homophobic environment. All things Milo had never experienced, so how the hell did he get himself in this mess?

His spaced-out state was abruptly interrupted by a knock at his bedroom door. Milo’s head shot up, the back smacking against his bed’s headboard. “One minute, Pilvi!” he called, the light gray bed cover twisting as he sat up fully. Milo’s tawny hair, although very short, was messed a little bit, especially toward the soft point of his large ears. His tail swished casually as he walked over to his moderate, blue oak vanity for a shirt. Throwing on one of his oversized v-necks, Milo groggily walked to the door.

He was rubbing his eyes, so Cal didn’t fully register when Milo first opened the door. He first saw Cal’s bare belly, then the curve of his neck that led to the delicate curve of Cal’s jaw. Milo couldn’t stop looking, it was too much; a yawn was the only thing that drew Milo’s eyes away from Cal’s overwhelming face.

Cal smiled smally, the edge of his mouth was sucked in just a tiny bit. “Morning, sunshine,” he greeted carefully. Testing the waters of Milo in the morning.

Despite the racing of Milo’s pulse, annoyance simmered in his expression. “This is my only day off this week, Cal. What is it?” Milo didn’t sound as mean or cold as he tried to, which just shot his heart rate to a new speed. Cal laughed a small bit, more out of acknowledgment than humour.

Cal’s ears twisted out subtly, the long fur on them fluid with the movement. It caught Milo’s attention for a split second too long, so he forced another yawn to come, as it gave him an excuse to cover his reddening face. “The others are still asleep, I dunno why I assumed you’d be awake, hah. Sorry ‘bout that,” he said. “You wanna go with me to get breakfast for the others? Y’all have no shit here-” he said this, too, with a small laugh, “-to eat in the mornings, and I figure getting something for at least this morning would be cool.” The end of his message almost sounded like a question. “I don’t really know where anything is around this area yet,” he added with a twitch of his lip. 

As much as Milo desperately wanted to close his door and hide, Eleanore despised being woken up and would make everyone else’s day hell if she was. He squinted at Cal, the hallway light hurting Milo’s eyes. “Is Eleanore awake?” He was met with Cal shaking his head. 

“No, I’m the only one.”

Cal had been living with them for about a month, on the couch, and Milo had found it fairly easy to avoid him. Most of Milo’s work shifts were in the morning, while Cal went around dinnertime. The only times Milo would have to face Cal would be around the others, and Asuka usually took up most of the dialogue. Except now, Milo supposed.

Milo nodded reluctantly. “Uh, yeah, lemme get dressed real quick,” he said, disoriented from sleep. Cal nodded, his subconscious smile turning into relief, and his flowy tail twitched excitedly. Milo smiled back tightly and closed his door. Hand still on the knob, his head dropped and a breath relieved itself from his lungs. Briefly closing his eyes, Milo grabbed skinny jeans and a bushy green sweater. 

Apparently, his hair wasn’t as short as he had thought as he checked his mirror. It was usually about an inch, and all very neatly brushed, but he hadn’t trimmed it in a while so it stuck out here and there, and made a small puddle around his ears. Milo sighed, rolling his eyes at his lazy appearance, and walked back to where Cal waited. 

Cal whistled lightheartedly, but it almost caused Milo to freeze; in fact, he barely caught himself from doing exactly that. “We’re going to some market, Milo, not the Met Gala.” Milo turned his head to Cal--half a step behind Milo--and gave him a dubious half-glare. Cal waggled his eyebrows all goofy, and Milo couldn’t suppress a smile despite rolling his eyes. 

“Put a shirt on, dumbass,” Milo deflected. They had gone downstairs by this time, passed all the sapphic art, and were at the fluffy green entrance rug. Cal snatched a yellow sweater with an owl on it, shrugging it over his billowy black hair. His ears popped up, and a swell shot through Milo’s heart and veins, though this time he was able to not stare. God, Milo was such a sucker for any mildly attractive boys. Grabbing the jingly keys, Milo led the way out the front door of the townhouse, Cal following behind.

“What are you thinking for breakfast?” Milo asked as they entered a local market. Milo didn’t feel right going to big franchises when this business was so accessible. Not much was spoken on the car ride there, which was Milo’s fault entirely while Cal tried to make conversation. Milo looked to Cal, who was looking around the store like a child at a new park. Milo took Cal’s distraction as an opportunity to stare a little at the glint in his misted eyes. Cal’s eyelashes were so, so long. They were a fucking blanket for his eyes.

The time was fleeting. Cal smiled at Milo: “You know how to make muffins?” Milo’s brow furrowed, but he nodded, and that made Cal’s smile grow exponentially. Cal bowed obnoxiously, gesturing forward. “After you, m’lady.” Milo playfully swatted at Cal’s hand before thinking, giggling a little. Cal’s laugh was a child’s: innocent, full of the purest joy, wildly infectious.

Cal grabbed a basket to put things in, and they headed toward the baking section of the market. An employee smiled at them, waving happily. Cal waved back, throwing an enthusiastic hello their way. Cal then went on to show and explain the delights of each and every type of muffin, so many so that Milo couldn’t retain anything beyond lemon poppy seed. 

Milo was looking at different mixes for the actual muffin part when arms wrapped around his shoulders. He stiffened, and the focus in his eyes went to shit when Cal’s voice softly spoke next to his ear. “They have cranberries.” The arms were gone just as suddenly as they had captured Milo, and it took a minute for him to be able to breathe properly again. Milo’s focus was still catching up when he moved again, turning from the aisle to Cal. Cranberries were covering the bottom of the basket in his arms, and Milo shook his head as he walked to where Cal was.

“Is there anything else we need back at the house while we’re here?” Milo asked Cal, assuming he was down around the others more than Milo. 

Cal shrugged, replying, “I’m not sure, probably not? I know Asuka recently went grocery shopping.” Milo nodded, heading for the aisle that had tea. Faintly, he heard Cal behind him: “What are we doing?”   
Milo called back, “Asuka never remembers to get tea for the house, so I’m just getting it now instead of going back later today.” Milo grabbed a gallon of sweet tea and turned back to Cal, purposely keeping his eyes away from Cal’s. “Plus, if he did remember, no ones gonna die if we have some extra.” Cal nodded, and they made their way to checkout.

No one was awake when they got home. Milo took the bag from Cal, going to the small kitchen/dining room to put things away and get everything ready for muffins. As he set the kitchen up, Milo could feel the slight tingling remaining in his upper arms, the soft brush of Cal’s hair against Milo’s cheek. Cal’s brief embrace put Milo in a dazed state the rest of the day: through baking muffins, going to work at the construction site for a bit last minute (even though this was supposed to be his day off), and through Pilvi’s “big break” that was just her finding out how to trick the laundromat into only making her pay half price.

After a small dinner, concluded with Eleanore singing some musical song very poorly, Milo grabbed his long jacket for a walk outside. He needed to clear his head, and the sun was up just barely enough that he’d be comfortable going. He checked in with Pilvi so she wouldn’t panic at his sudden disappearance, and then he was out the door.

It was chilly outside, and Milo’s mind noted that a cold autumn day felt very similar to a warm winter day here. He didn’t really know the importance of the thought, but it kept his brain occupied for a while with memories of warm winter days. He turned corners, crossed roads, watched as cars drove home from late shifts, and felt the chill settle in response to the sun doing so. Milo felt safe in this familiar feeling of chilly and alone; it was a comforting feeling that reminded him of a phone being left to charge each night. 

“Hey, man! Long time no see, yeah?” an enthusiastic voice called as a person suddenly wrapped their arm tightly around Milo’s. His eyes widened, and he began to pull away when they pleaded in a whisper, “Please go along. I think someone’s following me. My name is Fari.” Fear pooled in their slim brown eyes, ears flat and tail whipping anxiously. 

Milo smiled, and said, a little too loudly, “Fari, oh my god! I thought you moved.” Tears welled in Fari’s eyes, and they smiled gratefully. “I have so much to tell you.”

Fari clung to Milo’s arm, and he asked under his breath, “Tell me where to turn; I’ll lead you home, alright?”

Fari nodded, smiling wide. “Girl, tell me  _ everything _ .”

Milo talked about his roommates, his job, and how very good he was getting in those self-defense classes he always brought Fari to. “I recently learned how to cut someone’s airway off with a single hit,” he mentioned, trying to make the loudness sound like it came from a place of excitement. 

When they came to the end of that street, Fari mumbled, “Cross the street and then left,” and laughed at something Milo said about Asuka. A tear slipped down their round face, and a tight curl bounced in front of their flat nose as they shook their head. Milo didn’t dare look behind him; he would not let this person get hurt. Milo and Fari walked a couple more blocks before coming up to a small, light blue home. It looked barely two-bedroom and had little decorations all over the front yard. 

Fari brought Milo with them to the door. “Thank you, so much.” They glanced down the road they had walked up. “He’s still there. Do you want to come inside?”

Milo considered, cautious of the fact that, as much danger as this person could be in, he still knew nothing of them. He nodded hesitantly, and Fari smiled smally. “Okay. I’m so sorry for dragging you into this,” they said as the screen door closed behind Milo. He noticed how they didn’t make a move to close the inner door, or lock anything. It brought both comfort for his own safety but concern for theirs.

Fari must’ve noticed his observation. “I don’t want you to think you’re getting trapped or anything. I’ll lock up everything once you’re gone, don’t worry, hah.” Milo’s tension relaxed slightly, but he kept his hand tight around his phone in the pocket of the long jacket. 

The living room was very small, with a colorless sofa, low coffee table, and boxed tv that left just enough room to walk to each thing. The carpet was flattened from a long time of walking on it--much like Milo’s stairs--and Fari sat down at the end of the couch. “Sorry it’s so small, it’s all I could afford.”

“Don’t apologize for your financial state, Fari,” Milo protested. Fari’s eyes shot to the floor silently. “So, what are your pronouns?”

Fari’s eyes shot up with surprise. “Huh? Oh, hahah, I go by they/them. No one really asks me that hahah,” they responded. 

Milo shrugged in return, saying, “I live with two lesbians and a bisexual, so it’s very much become a habit.” He laughed a little bit at Asuka’s intensity while asking the question. Fari seemed to relax further.

“I really appreciate your help tonight…” They looked to Milo expectantly.

He filled in the space with a smile: “Milo.”

Fari’s mint eyes widened. “What?” they asked, sounding shocked. Milo’s brow furrowed, confused, but then they showed him their wrist.

_ Milo Kavaleir _

__ Milo let out a breath of relief, striking panic draining out of him. “I’m sorry, Fari. That isn’t my last name.” He paused to gauge their reaction, but when it was one of equal relief, he chuckled a little. The adrenaline left in him spiked his bravery, and he thought,  _ I’m probably never going to interact with Fari again, so what the hell.  _ “It would be ironic if that were mine, though, considering I’m gay.”

This elicited a laugh from Fari. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” they said between guffaws. 

Milo laughed and talked with Fari to help get their mind off of the walk, but they were interrupted by Milo’s ringtone.

He stepped into the small, pink, and grey kitchen. “What’s up, Pilvi?”

“Where are you? It’s almost eleven,” Pilvi said quickly, sounding both worried and annoyed. Milo felt a twang of guilt for not texting her, so he explained the situation to her with an abundance of apologies and accepted her offer to c0me pick him up. She talked about Eleanore for a while, before asking for the address and finally ending the call.

Milo walked back to where Fari sat. “I have a friend coming to pick me up right now. Do you want my number, so we can stay in contact? I told her what happened and she wanted me to say that we’re here for you if you need anything,” he told them. Fari nodded, and Milo told them his number, handing his phone to them afterward. 

As Fari took his phone, they commented, “The name on your wrist is very beautiful. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone named Calyx.” Milo didn’t process it right away, but utter panic surged through him when it did.

He looked down at his wrist frantically and saw that there was no makeup hiding the X of his soulmate’s name. His heart raced and he was starting to feel lightheaded when he remembered that they knew he was gay. 

“Is everything okay?” Fari asked cautiously. “Did I say something wrong?”

Milo’s eyes shot up from his wrist. “No, no! You’re good, sorry. It’s a long story, haha.” Fari raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow in question. Milo sighed and admitted, a little embarrassed, “I’m not out to anyone.”

Fari’s face contorted with beyond confusion. “Aren’t you surrounded by gayness?” they exclaimed. Milo burst out laughing and nodding. Although they were still smiling, Fari’s tone was hinted with seriousness. “Why don’t you feel safe coming out?”   
Milo’s face grew somber, and he shrugged. “I really don’t know. Nothing in my life right now is homophobic; I don’t go to church, I live with only LGBT people, my work isn’t left or right or up or down in politics.” Milo sighed. “I dunno. It just feels…”

“Wrong?” Milo’s face scrunched in distaste at Fari’s word, but they continued before he could disagree. “Maybe not for others, but wrong for you? Like everyone in the world is completely valid in their identity except for you.”

“I guess? It still feels really awful saying any part of it is wrong, cause I know it isn’t,” he further explained. 

Fari nodded in a way that explicitly told him they knew this feeling far too well. “Self-acceptance is the hardest to achieve. That and social acceptance, but I said fuck that to all that a while ago.” They laughed quietly, with more bitter spite than humour.

Milo opened his mouth to respond but was spooked when his phone vibrated, Pilvi’s name popping up on his illuminated lock screen.

_ cal took the car. are you safe to walk home? i can get cal away for a bit to pick u up if you want _

_ I’ll be good, thanks tho _

Milo sent it as quickly as he could before she talked to Cal. Putting his phone away, he looked to Fari, who was fidgeting with some playing cards and tapping their foot: “My ride’s here, so I’ll be going. Make sure you lock up and call me if you see him around you, yeah?” Fari nodded, sending more thanks to Milo's way, which he dismissed casually and closed the inside door behind him as he went back outside. 

The chilled air of nighttime paired fittingly with the anxiety that came with walking home alone at night. Milo’s ears were flattened against his tousled hair, and his thin tail flicked apprehensively. As he walked, though, Milo felt himself calming as he took in the subtle scenery of the neighbourhood. Although scattered, the trees would perfectly shade the sidewalk during the day. Reflective rays of moonlight speared through leafless spaces, mildly lighting Milo’s path. He watched as the occasional brown or orange leaf fell from an oak, floating in the breezes for a while before touching the ground. Without his glasses, street lamps looked like little fuzzy blobs of light, and the soft yellow reminded him of little bumblebees. Milo smiled to himself at the thought of the little yellow fuzz balls roaming around and pollinating daisies and forget-me-nots. He was too distracted to hear the pattering of footsteps behind him.

A massive weight plowed Milo’s face into the ground, sending a searing, blinding pain all around his head. A hand then dug into his scalp and hair, pulling his head up roughly while a knee forced his back into the pavement. All of these limbs connected to a body whose face was now centimeters from Milo’s left ear. 

“What were you doing with him,” a dark voice hissed. Tears from pain and fear were already streaming down Milo’s cheeks and clouding his thoughts. Blood poured down his nose and into his mouth, but he didn’t dare spit it out.

He muttered back, “Who?” Although he was pretty sure he knew.

Milo’s face collided with the ground yet again, and he screamed, voice cracking. His vision faded, and his face was completely numb. He was thrown to his back, and the person’s hand grabbed his chin and shoved the back of Milo’s skull into the blood on the sidewalk; Milo struggled to breathe with all the blood and pain, so every breath was audible and strained. A fist connected with his right temple and his head shot left. The dark voice yelled, but Milo couldn’t make out any of the words through the muffled ringing in his ear. An onslaught of hits met his face and throat, and by the time the person was standing up, Milo was moaning, gurgles of blood interrupting. A final blow to his side brought on a choking fit as Milo inhaled sharply, bringing blood into his lungs. He coughed and coiled into himself, trying desperately to get onto his side so he could breathe. 

Bright lights blinded him, and the assailant must’ve bolted because the hits stopped. The intense lights didn’t go away though, and, just as Milo was crying and choking and trying to process that he was about to die, hands cupped his face. Milo tried to scream and fight back, tears and pain making it impossible to see much of anything beyond basic shapes. There was so much pain. So, so much. Whoever the fuck decided pain would be enough of a word to describe this was a dumbass. After a very, very short amount of time, Milo gave up fighting. He was too tired, far too much in pain, so he gave up. He silently apologized to his soulmate, to Pilvi, to Fari. 

A rocket of pain flew through his entire body when he was moved by the hands. He was pulled onto the side that wasn’t kicked by some steel toe boot, and his body immediately worked to evacuate the blood from his lungs. Every cough was so far beyond hell for his ribs that, frankly, Milo would’ve preferred the burning pits of eternal fire. 

Milo began to feel light, too light, as if he was floating away from his body. The blurred mix of colors and shapes faded further as he continued to cough and his mind went back to the bumblebees.

As he left his body, Milo thought about the yellow and black fuzzballs and thought only about them.


	3. Bumble Bees and Daisies Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Milo's walk home.
> 
> CW: violence, hospitals, language

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been so long since the last update ;-; i'm trying my best lol. hope u enjoy ^_^

The first time Milo remembered seeing bumblebees, he was nine. He was with a long forgotten face, walking on a nature trail. "It wants to join us," the face had told Milo humorously. The small creature had buzzed onto a small, purple flower, and Milo's ears had twitched with curiosity.   
When Milo felt the reality of a warmed blanket and soft beeping, he was hazed. Not confused, though, which ended up ironically confusing him; every show and book he’d read had said that people are confused as to where they are when they randomly wake up in a hospital. Milo, unfortunately enough, hadn’t forgotten much.

The pain when he came to the first time was immeasurable. There was not a word in any language that could describe it. He heard nothing but ringing in his ears, but his throat felt raw from screaming. Blood came up from his throat again, and he started coughing and choking. A shivering hand rubbed his back lightly, and he tried to flinch and fight it, but his ribs and face and everything made it so that he barely twitched. Everything was blurry, so blurry; between the tears and puffing of his eyes, he was able to only subtly make out colors. He felt bumpy. Was he in a car? He must’ve been, and he felt every tiny bump, every turn, as if he was in a box of knives being rolled down a hill. A pothole threw him back into the trash can of unconsciousness, where he dreamed of bumblebees and his soulmate.

Now, though, he hardly felt anything beyond a slight tingle in his nose and ache when he breathed. He evaluated his senses before moving; Milo was laying on his back, arms at his sides and the blanket up to his collarbone. One arm was outside of the blanket, resting on his stomach and casted in blue. Too tired to question, Milo turned his cheek to the pillow and opened his eyes, squinting. Everything was blurry--his vision, his hearing--but, through the muffled white noise, he made out an unfamiliar adrogynous voice speaking, met with a voice he did know.  
Shapes began to focus and the first thing he saw was a body sitting forward in a plastic grey/blue chair. The fluffy black hair and matching ears struck remembrance in Milo.  
Cal stood, cautiously, as Milo’s eyes continued opening (it was much more difficult than Milo felt it should’ve been, and he was beginning to get frustrated). The white walls outlined each strand of jet hair Cal had, down to the difference of texture between the long, thin hair on his ears, and thick, wavy hair on his scalp. Milo’s entire face felt tight and swollen, and a faint ache formed, eliciting a groan from Milo; Cal reached to touch Milo’s shoulder gently, saying, “It’s okay. Just try to relax, okay? You’re safe now, I promise.” Though it sounded far away, Milo could still make out the soothing tone Cal was articulating into every word.  
Cal’s hand remained on Milo’s shoulder while the doctor began their interview to make sure there was no neurological damage: where they all were, what was Milo’s name, Cal’s name, et cetera.   
Milo had a severe nose fracture and broken wrist, both of which needed to be set, and two cracked ribs along with four additional bruised ones. There were external bruises and cuts everywhere basically, and his right cheekbone was bruised.  
“It may be difficult to breathe for a week or two, but make sure you rest and do not strain yourself until you’re completely healed,” the doctor informed pointedly at Milo.  
Cal added, bringing Milo’s eyes to his, “And breathe through your mouth if it’s easier, okay?” Despite the level tone, Cal’s deep brown eyes had a post-cry red hue. Milo nodded, receiving a small, slightly shaken smile from Cal.  
Nausea hit right as the doc was finished and about to release them, so it was another few hours to watch for any internal bleeding before Cal helped Milo into a wheelchair. Cal made his way left to an elevator. As the elevator began its descent, Milo noticed a soft pressure on his shoulder again. Strangely, even though it wasn’t Pilvi or a soulmate’s touch (theorists say you can’t have an unpleasant touch from your soulmate), it brought a wave of relaxation over Milo.  
It was bright as hell outside. Milo squinted, brows furrowing in discomfort as Cal pushed him silently through the automatic doors. The next thing Milo remembered was stopping in front of a car door. Dried blood was on the door handle of the silver car, and Milo felt a small wave of undertone panic wash through him. Milo kept each breath deliberately slow to avoid pain (he was so hopped up on drugs, though, so did it even matter?).   
Cal’s voice was rough when he asked Milo, “Do you need help getting in?” Milo didn’t know why Cal asked if he was just gonna help Milo regardless.  
He went slower than Milo was expecting, but it made it feel easier. Wafts of vanilla and wood met Milo when he stood fully, leaning almost completely on Cal. Cal wavered a bit under the weight, and Milo flinched in surprise when Cal’s anxiously flicking tail brushed Milo’s.   
“You okay?” Cal asked urgently in response to Milo’s flinch. Milo’s face heated, but he nodded.   
“Yeah, sorry.”  
Cal remained stopped for another few seconds, and then began moving Milo gradually into the seat of the car. Each time he had to move positions--even slightly--pain shot through Milo at full force, only being dulled by the fogginess of some drug. Cal was pausing and going until Milo was as comfortable as he was going to get in the car. The dashboard had paperwork from the hospital all over it, and there were tissues stained red covering the floor of the passenger’s seat. Flashes of memory from that flooded Milo, and it started getting harder to breathe.  
The door to the driver’s seat closed, and Cal touched the top of Milo’s hand featherly, and it grounded Milo enough to control his breathing again. Every bump on the road felt like a sledgehammer to Milo’s body. His eyes were still fairly swollen, but he could see Cal’s tail flicking worriedly as they made their way down a semi-deserted highway.  
Milo’s voice was dry and raspy when he broke the tense silence. “Thank… Thank you for.. helping. “ He turned his head, tilted back on the head rest, Cal’s direction, but it was only met with Cal’s soft side profile.   
Milo’s face was heating with embarrassment for talking when Cal responded. “I’m just glad I found you.” His voice was almost as raspy as Milo’s. “I barely slept when they took you into surgery; I don’t even know why. I barely know you.” Cal made eye contact with Milo for the longest second Milo had ever experienced before turning back to the road. Milo was intimidated by Cal’s gaze, and focused on his lap. He didn’t know how to respond.  
The next 45 minutes was silent, with Milo sharply inhaling every now and then when Cal hit a bump, followed by a prompt and panicked apology from Cal.

Pilvi was on the front steps, crying, when Cal pulled up in front of their townhouse. The orange porchlight illuminated the top of her head, but hardly anything else, and Milo could ever so faintly make out the shape of either Eleanore or Asuka. Pilvi ran up to Milo’s door, baby blue eyes red and tears streaming down her round brown and white cheeks. Milo tried smiling at her, but it must not’ve looked as reassuring as Milo intended, because Pilvi’s face scrunched up.  
Eleanore walked up beside Pilvi, touching her arm lightly and whispering something Milo couldn’t catch. Elearnore led Pilvi back to the house after a few seconds. The next Milo was Cal. His composure was back entirely, like it was never gone.   
Cal half smiled at Milo. “You ready, nerd?” Milo stifled a laugh, which was painful, and Cal reached his dark arm over Milo to the seat belt buckle. Milo’s face remained facing the window, and black hair softer than a fucking cloud brushed against his face as Cal retracted out of the car, and Milo’s entire body stiffened at it.  
“Fuck!” Cal exclaimed. Milo’s dark eyes widened at him, but he was out of Milo’s limited view already.   
The trunk of the slim car opened and then closed a few minutes later, after some shuffling. Cal came back, rolling the blue and silver wheelchair, and Milo scoffed. “I don’t need that, Cal,” Milo tried. He hated the idea of ever having to be someone else’s responsibility.  
However, Cal wasn’t having it. “I’m tired, Milo. Please don’t try to be macho right now.”  
Guilt filled Milo, so he just nodded silently. Cal didn’t give off a hair of anger or annoyance, though. Just genuine exhaustion, both emotional and physical.  
Milo was in tears and shivering by the time he fully sat down in the wheelchair. Hairs clung to his forehead, and his vision went even more blurry with his erratic breaths. What had begun to subside into an ache during the drive went back to a shooting, stinging pain in his ribs. Cal put a hand gingerly at the bottom curve of Milo’s neck, where it met his shoulder. Milo initially though he tensed at Cal’s touch, only to realize a moment later he had relaxed instead.  
They remained like that until Milo’s breathing had evened out mostly.  
“I’m gonna start moving now, okay?” Cal warned quietly, his hand leaving Milo’s dark skin cold. Milo nodded, and Cal began pushing the wheelchair as smoothly as he could.

Milo would have to sleep in the living room for a while, until he had the strength to get up and down the stairs without help. His entire torso was covered in tender bruises, and his face must look like he was having an allergic reaction.  
While Cal explained everything he knew to Pilvi and Eleanore in the kitchen, Asuka sat next to Milo on the couch. “New makeup look?” Asuka inquired, nodding to Milo’s appearance.  
Only missing a beat to process, Milo replied, “Oh hell yeah. Vo.. vogue time… baby.” Asuka chuckled, then leaned their head back to gaze up at their ceiling.  
“Have you talked to the cops yet?” they asked Milo solemnly.  
Milo said, “Not yet. The guy that got me is already in custody, so it’s not overly urgent I guess? They want to make sure I’m thinking clearly enough to make a cohesive statement or something.”  
Milo felt Asuka roll their eyes. “So not drugged up. No more black tar, my friend,” he joked, sighing mock-disappointment. They sat in almost silence--the only noise being Pilvi, Eleanore, and Cal--for a while.  
“I’m so fucking relieved that you’re alive, Milo,” Asuka said quietly. “It’s good they caught that bastard before he caught my hands.”  
Asuka was very rarely anything but quiet and passive, but it was impossible for Milo to forget how deeply Asuka loved their friends. They ran a hand through their poodle-like hair, ears flicking. “I’m gonna head to bed, do you want anything?”  
Milo shook his head. “Thank you, th… though.”  
Asuka nodded, and left for the small, second-floor hallway.  
“How… how long has it.. been?” Milo asked Cal when he came into the living room. “It’s.. alm… it’s almost.. Dark.”  
Cal cast a glance toward the window next to the boxy t.v., and told Milo, “Almost a day.” Cal went to say more, but something inside of him stopped the words from coming out. He instead finished, “It’s about 8 p.m. right now.”  
Milo didn’t even notice Pilvi quietly shuffle into the living room; she was still crying, but less now. He knew she wanted to say something, too, but also couldn’t yet. She planted a small kiss on Milo’s forehead, and helped him lie down on the blue floral couch. She then went to the beige loveseat, setting herself up for the night. He was the most comfortable on his back, but it felt unnatural compared to his typical side position.  
Right before Milo’s heavy eyes closed, Cal kneeled down in front of his face. “Take this medication before you go to bed,” he said quietly, voice the consistency of autumn leaves. Cal handed Milo one pill--morphine, Cal told him--and held a cup of water with a straw to Milo’s mouth for him. It was strangely intimate, and Milo couldn’t tell how he was feeling about it. Cal stood, placing the cup on the coffee table in front of Milo, and walked out of his sight. Then, a light, soft weight covered Milo: the green living room blanket.  
“Night, Milo,” Cal said softly before turning off the last lamp and leaving for the night.  
Hardly 30 seconds later, a more feminine voice spoke up in the dark.  
“Good night, Milo. I love you.”  
“I love you.. too, Pilvi…. Good night.”


End file.
